


By the Whirlwind's Side

by dimplelegacy



Series: Flavors of Crimson Bond [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Blood, Drabble, Keith's NEED for SPEED, M/M, Vampire Sheith Week, prompt: hunt/bloodbank, vampire, yeah that tag is going to cost me some readers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 00:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21170435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimplelegacy/pseuds/dimplelegacy
Summary: "We better get outside," Keith had said and Shiro thought he was trying to look impressive before the actual "performance". Keith did have a confident, almost cocky, side of him.Shiro was incredibly wrong.Or, basically, Keith shows Shiro how much energy he really has.Written for Vampire Sheith Week.





	By the Whirlwind's Side

**Author's Note:**

> It's a Shiro pov! And me just loving the headcanon of vampires being fast, damn you Twilight for making it lame.   
Enough said, I guess.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3

Though it has been decades, Shiro remembers what it is like to be a newborn vampire — the intensity of everything, the hunger and energy that can drive even the most strong-willed man mad. He had no one by his side when he experienced it and he can only hope that, for Keith, his help is something else than just a fumbling attempt to be a decent sire. 

Luckily, he can provide blood in the safest ways possible, avoiding the clashing of morality and lust the newling can experience. 

The need to hunt, on the other hand, is much more difficult to manage. 

He can see it in Keith’s wild eyes, the white of them bloodshot, and his fangs pushing into view under his lips is a definite sign of suppressed vigor that cannot be satisfied with feeding alone.

Keith is clawing the table, most likely unconscious of it, but he stops when Shiro speaks out.

“I haven’t exactly seen the extent of your strength yet.”

Keith blinks at him like an owl. “What do you mean?”

“It’s much too easy for me to forget how important it is for the newlings to not only satiate their hunger but to gratify their instincts as well.”

He watches as Keith spares a glance at his hands and the damage the claws have done to the table’s surface. 

“Shiro, I’m sor-”

“It’s only a table, Keith,” Shiro waves his hand at him. “No need to worry about it. You should only focus on yourself and on your state. As I said, I forget what it is like. You need to remind me; tell me what you are feeling.”

There’s is that familiar, adorable shy expression again — Keith’s eyes move around the room and he thins his lips as if considering his next words carefully. Shiro is very fond of it.

But he is very fond of all Keith’s habits and gestures, too.

“What do you suggest I’d do then?” Keith mutters, finally looking at Shiro in the eyes. 

“Show me all you’ve got.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He did not expect his question to lead to… chaos, of sorts.

"We better get outside," Keith had said and Shiro thought he was trying to look impressive before the actual "performance". Keith did have a confident, almost cocky, side of him.

Shiro was incredibly wrong.

The branches hit his face and leaves get stuck in his hair, in his  _ short hair _ , though he is not anywhere close to trees. Keith is like a hurricane that catches everything with it, quite close to changing the location of ground to sky and vice versa. 

Shiro barely seems him move. He's out of control in every sense of the word; a young predator. He sprints around the nearby forest as Shiro watches him from the field. Next, he sprints back to the view, dashing across the dead sunflowers. The petals float in the air.

Keith halts like he has hit a wall. He’s clearly not even out of breath but Shiro sees him hesitate. Keith’s legs are shaking from the adrenaline.

Then he is moving again and the muddy ground gives away under the force of his feet, painting the entirety of the field’s greenery in filth. Shiro can only watch and wait as he disappears into the forest again. This time it takes a bit longer for him to come back.

Shiro is counting the seconds as he pulls the stubborn leaves from his hair.

After 30 seconds or so, Keith is coming straight towards him. Shiro doesn’t even consider moving a muscle — it’s effortless, the way he trusts Keith. 

The young vampire barely misses colliding into him, only throwing more mud around, most of it on Shiro's clothes. Shiro doesn't mind it though and the corners of his mouth turn up.

The brief moment of joy is dampened when he sees Keith stumble, only slightly. But he sees it and that is their cue to stop.

"Keith,  _ enough! _ "

  
  


Keith doesn't seem to be able to stop himself right away, despite Shiro’s command. For a few heartbeats, he runs in circles like a scared animal, until he finally forces his body to stop by throwing himself on the ground.

Shiro closes the distance between, his speed matching Keith's but he controls it, unlike his newling.

Keith turns on his side and yells out, "Don't come closer!"

Shiro stops, leaving a few feet’ lengths between them. His instincts flare at the smell of blood coming from Keith. Only now his eyes take in the red on Keith's lips and all over his chin. 

"Give me a minute, okay?" Keith's pupils are dilated. The purple is almost gone from his eyes.

Shiro glances at this wet hair and dirty clothes. "What did you do?"

"Something came in my way.” Keith frowns at his own words and licks his lips.

"Human?"

" _ No _ . An animal, I’m sure of it. But I..." he hesitates. "I can't even remember what kind of animal it was. I moved too fast."

"It takes time to get used to it. Your head has not caught up with your speed yet." Shiro takes a step closer to Keith, careful.

Keith inhales. Then he nods. 

Shiro kneels in front of him and he sits up, looking exhausted. His hands tremble and there's a curious urge inside of Shiro; to grasp them into his own hands, lick them clean from the blood and dirt.

Instead, he wipes Keith's chin gently.

He knows how hard it is. There are no words to describe it.

"How long is it going to last before I get used to it?" Keith asks. His voice shakes the more Shiro cleans up his face — he must be suppressing the instinct to attack Shiro, to protect every drop of blood he has.

Shiro smiles sadly. "A year maybe."

Keith looks him in the eyes as if trying to find a different answer to his question. "How long does will that  _ feel _ like?"

His fingers linger on Keith's jaw for a second, simply caressing the skin.

"Decades."

The only comfort Keith has is that Shiro will stay by him, as long as the newling and both of their eternities allow him.

  
  
  
  



End file.
